


Love's Last Embrace

by CheeryCherryCandy



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Get your tissues ready, M/M, Major Illness, Romance, Sad, Tragedy, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-15 01:20:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 18,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5766514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheeryCherryCandy/pseuds/CheeryCherryCandy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a dying Gilbert Beilschmidt walked into the cafe, he was merely looking for shelter. He did not expect a certain Austrian to accidentally stumble into his life... AH, AU, Prustria, PruAus, Prussia x Austria. Multi Chapter fic, updated frequently, will be a tragedy ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

Gilbert was dying. Of that he was certain. His health was failing and there was nothing he could do about it. He looked around Ludwig's kitchen, where he was raiding the fridge for beer; there were so many signs that he lived here, yet none of them were permanent: the empty beer cans that cluttered the floor and work surfaces (as well as most of the rest of the house) would be cleared away, the ketchup stains would be scrubbed of the ceiling and the coffee beans swept up. Within a day or two, the house would look as if he had never even been here. He sighed and gave up his search for beer; his brother had probably drunk the last of it. Slamming the fridge door shut, he skulked of back to his room. This was the room of the house that would take the most clearing up when he was gone: on the floor alone there were enough clothes to keep a Laundrette's in business for a month and enough aluminium cans to melt down and make a small plane. The walls were originally pained in magnolia (trust Lud to be boring like that thought Gilbert, if he had his own way the walls would be bright orange but Ludwig had forbidden Gilbert from any form of decorating after he had painted the kitchen fluorescent pink the previous summer), but none of the cream paint could be seen behind the massive Prussian flags which had been pinned to the walls. Ludwig had simply sighed and walked away when he first saw this new addition to the bedroom and merely requested that Gilbert fill in all the holes from the nails when he gained some artist sense and took them down. Ludwig would never understand Gil's obsession with the long-dead nation. Gilbert slumped miserably on his bed; there had been no sign of Ludwig all day, so he was incredibly lonely. However, it did mean that Lud couldn't see how ill-looking he had become recently: the dark circles under his eyes had become increasingly difficult to hide and his already pale skin had turned a deathly shade of white.

His boredom getting the best of him, he dragged himself off the bed and to the door, kicking clothes out of the way as he went. He stomped dejectedly down the stairs, not even looking at the bannister he delighted in sliding down (much to Ludwig's disapproval). He pulled open the door, stepping outside into the chilly night air. He would go to the pub; alcohol would take his mind off things. Slowly, he trudged down the driveway, past the neatly manicured bushes and ornamental fountains, and out through the decorative pillars of his brother's house.

He walked into the pub, collapsed onto a stool and slumped on the bar.

"Give me the strongest thing you have" he slurred; if he didn't get alcohol soon he was going to become VERY depressed. His life was swirling down the plughole and he felt he deserved a little bit of happiness before all chance of it vanished for ever.

"You sure mate?" inquired the bartender, "You look pretty sloshed already!"

"I'm not drunk!" protested Gilbert "Just tired." he added as an afterthought, as the bartender gave him a look of disbelief.

The bartender seemed to realise that money was money no matter what and started mixing Prussia a drink. When it was placed in front of him, it was a radioactive shade of green which Prussia would normally been extremely willing to drink as it meant he would be off his face within minutes of swallowing and so would qualify as being 'awesome'. Today however, he just saw it as a way of forgetting his predicament; forgetting he was going to die.

**Ludwig P.O.V.**

I don't know what is wrong with Gilbert, he doesn't seem himself: he hasn't declared anything to be 'awesome' in days! I know that Gilbird can sense it too - his cheerful chirping has seemed to be almost fake recently as he only does it to cheer Gilbert up. Which doesn't work. Nothing works. I wish Feliciano hadn't dragged me to this pub; I really don't see the point when there is nothing to celebrate. Also, the beer here is nothing like as good as proper German stuff!

"Doitsu!" Feli shrieked in my ear, causing me to wince in pain.

"Why is Mr Gilbert slumped on the bar over there?"

My head flicked up - what on earth was Gilbert doing here, I thought he was depressed for God's sake not trying to get sloshed AGAIN!

"Sheiße!" I hissed under my breath, leaping up to go and reprimand him about careless behaviour and the dangers of being stone drunk. However, Feliciano was ahead of me and was already bouncing across the pub to Gilbert.

"Hey, Mr Gilbert! Why are you here alone?" Feli asked enthusiastically "You could have joined us!"

Gilbert lifted his head from his arms and scowled at Feliciano through bloodshot eyes. This, combined with the fact that he had red irises already, made him look like a demonic creature from a horror movie, yet Feli remained completely unfazed.

"You look ill Mr Gilbert" declared Feliciano, his voice still characteristically optimistic.

"You should go to the doctors, that's where Doitsu sends me when I'm... Where are you going Mr Gilbert?"

Gil had stood up suddenly on shaking legs, and started stumbling towards the exit. I chased after him, cursing under my breath. He was completely drunk, there was no way he could leave; he would get hurt (or, given his current depressed state, hurt someone)!

"Gilbert! Stop! You'll get hurt if you leave!"

"Leave me alone, West!" snarled Gil at me, leaving me startled at his outburst, and as shocked as if he had slapped me in the face.

"Gil..." I said weakly, as the door of the pub slammed shut.

"Give me the strongest thing you have" I said to the bartender, sinking onto a stool and resting my head on my hands.

**Gilbert P.O.V.**

"They cannot know. They cannot know." I repeated to myself as I ran down the road, much vision blurry and my feet dragging me in all directions. "They cannot know that I am dying!" Despite the alcohol slowing down my brain, I still felt fairly logical, as I helter-skeltered down the street. It was dark now, and the streetlights cast shadows which appeared to dance menacingly before me. A bush became a dark hooded figure; trees became eerie skeletons and a cat, skulking in an alley, a terrifying monster.

I began to run, all effects of the alcohol gone from my mind in my terror. Up ahead, I could see light pouring out of the entrance to a coffee house and I could hear the soothing sounds of piano music drifting through the chilly night air.

I walked through the open door, glad to be free of the shadowy street. Slumping down into a chair in the corner, I put my head in my hands in despair. The sweet music because dark and ominous to match my mood and I turned to look at the pianist and, to my surprise, found him looking back at me. His gaze flickered back to the music as the piece became more violent but, when the music's energy dissipated, I found him looking at me with an expression of worry on his face. I had been planning to glare back at him, to make him know that I did not want his sympathy, yet the genuinely concerned expression on his face was not what I had been expecting.

Thrown off my stride, I dropped my gaze. "Stupid!" I muttered to myself. Great. Now I looked weak. I slumped further into my seat. The alcohol I had drunk earlier had only served to make me even more depressed, yet I was pretty certain it wouldn't kill me; I was infamous for my high alcohol tolerance!

The piano music came to an end, and everyone around me started clapping. The thunderous applause the man received was loud enough to jolt me out of my reverie, but yet again, as I looked up and began clapping robotically, I saw the pianist staring at me in concern. I gave him a weak smile, but my attempt to pacify a complete stranger, who was far too busy sticking his nose into other people's business, was clearly not enough. His expression was now fixed into a fake smile, yet his eyes remained locked on me, calculating. The applause died down, the man left the stage and so people got up to leave, yet I stayed slouched in my seat, hoping that some other performer would appear on stage so I could continue blending into the shadows.

**Roderich P.O.V.**

My whole body swayed with the emotion of the music, threatening to pull me under, to pull me down into the waves of sound and hold me prisoner. I let it pull me down, as my fingers continued moving of their own accord. So lost was I in the music, I didn't even register the eyes of the audience; watching me inquisitively, as one may observe a hamster on a wheel of an exotic fish in its tank. However, I did notice when a man, with strikingly white hair, walked into the cafe. However, it was not the hair that shocked me, nor was it the fact that his eyes were blood red. It was the fact that he appeared to be less than half the age of the rest of the people in the cafe, and clearly not the usual type of visitor. His snowy hair was in disarray, his clothes were scruffy and his eyes held a kind of frantic gleam; a far cry from the neat and tidy, up-together audience members I was accustomed to. I found myself drawn to him, somewhat instinctively, for some reason I could not fathom. On closer inspection, I saw that he had dark circles under his eyes, and his face appeared gaunt and thin; was he ill? I continued staring at him, still not consciously realising I was doing so, until my fingers began moving faster and faster, and my gaze was torn back to the sheet music. Now however, I could feel his gaze on me, and my eyes flickered back to look at him. He appeared to be in his twenties, so about the same age as me, and his face was set in a defiant expression, eyes glaring back at me. I held his gaze, he was a most peculiar person I decided; he looked superficially to be your typical young adult, the sort who went to heavy metal concerts and appeared to have never heard of a brush and comb, but I could see in his eyes that he was troubled. He returned my stare, yet dropped it soon after, as if he was admitting defeat. This young man was very much a mystery.

It then occurred to me that I may have been a little too fixated on this man - I was supposed to be marrying Vash Zwingli next year after all! We weren't officially engaged, but everyone assumed Vash would produce a ring sooner or later. My parents had eventually accepted my homosexuality, after paying a fortune to 'cure' me of my 'Addled Mind', and had immediately started searching for a suitor for me as if I was some sort of highborn young lady from Elizabethan England!

My parents were well known around here: My Mother, Anna, and her husband Lukas were both well off, yet weren't social climbers as one may have expected; they just wanted what was best for their only son. My Mother, Annaliese (or Anna as she preferred to be called) was born in Austria, and lived in Vienna until she met my Father, Lukas Bondevik, who played violin in the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra and was originally from Norway but lived in England. I lived in Austria until I was twelve, then my Mother and I moved to England to live with my Father, who still had to fly to Austria because of his role as leader of the orchestra - the most important person (apart from the conductor). I didn't really have many school friends so moving was not a problem. The one friend I did have was Elizaveta Hédévary, a Hungarian girl who lived next door until I was eight, when she moved back to her home country. She was a bit of a tomboy however, and my parents never approved of her, and were not sad to see her leave.

Vash Zwingli was the son of a wealthy banker who was well-known around here as he had started life being very poor, yet had worked his way up to the top. He was very strict about saving money, and this appeared to have rubbed off on him and his younger sister, Lilli. My parents thought he was an ideal match for me, and his parents were music lovers who greatly admired my Father, and so they too supported our relationship.

I suppose I did love Vash, a bit. He was very kind and caring, yet he would always be distracted by feeling the need to chase around his fourteen year old sister, protecting her from life itself!

But, whether I loved him or not, I was still marrying him, so why my traitorous eyes were once again straying to the newcomer's table, I don't know!

When the piece of music finished, I stood up to take a bow, yet again, my eyes were again drawn to the silverette in the far corner. Why! My head shrieked internally; was there some supernatural force here, sent to test my loyalty to Vash? It was working... No! I mustn't think that. I would not.

I hurriedly left the stage, and went to the small upstairs room the café owner had let me use to keep my belongings tonight. I resisted the urge to bash my head on the wall, and instead took a long swig of coffee from the flask I had brought with me for the taxi journey home. I grabbed my bag, and walked down the stairs, my mind a mile away from reality. I turned and headed towards the back door, or at least I thought I did. I found myself in the main room of the café, surrounded by a sea of tables and their occupants, who were heading in droves for the exit. I cursed internally, my sense of direction, or lack thereof, had failed me again, and now I was surrounded by the crowds I had hoped to avoid. Luckily, nobody seemed to notice me, they were all far too intent on getting to the door and one of the taxis parked out front: I had attempted to sneak out the back door to secure one of them, but now I knew I would not be so lucky.

My traitorous feet now seemed to have developed a mind of their own again, and were now leading me towards the table in the corner where the young man still sat. He looked up at me and scowled.

"What do you want?" he asked scathingly.

"I... I... I wanted to know if you were all right, you look ill." I stuttered nervously, still unsure as to why I was talking to him in the first place. He looked up at me from under heavy lidded eyes, their crimson irises sparkling with indignation.

"Why should you care!" he said spitefully, dislike clear in his features.

"I... I don't know; I was just worried I guess. I'm sorry for bothering you: it was most impolite of me. Goodnight sir." I turned to leave, but as I headed for the exit, the man called after me:

"Wait!"

I spun round in surprise

"I just wanted to say thank you. For caring. Goodnight."

"Goodnight." I continued towards the exit, now very confused, as the man began to stand up to leave too.

Outside the cafe, the once crowded taxi bays were now empty, and I figured it would be quicker to walk back to my apartment - was only ten minutes away.

Twenty minutes later, I was still walking through the ark streets, heading in hat I thought was the right direction. I was clearly wrong however, as I suddenly found myself in front of the cafe again! Cursing my appalling sense of direction again, I continued walking - I would find a road eventually - and then realised I was in a dark alley. I continued hurrying along, there were always stories about people getting mugged in alleys and I didn't want to end my life as just another statistic on a graph! As I walked, I saw a mysterious lump in front of me, which did not appear to be moving. I approached it warily, unsure of what I might find, yet still not wanting to linger in the dark street any longer than necessary. On closer examination, the lump appeared to be human: it couldn't be a dead body could it? And if so, was the killer still around? As I was about to turn and run, something caught my eye: the victim's hair was snow white...  
****

_~Fin_


	2. Chapter 2

All logical thoughts of running were pushed from my mind; was this the man from the cafe earlier? And if so, was he actually dead, or had he collapsed - he had appeared so ill earlier that he may have been walking home and collapsed. I prayed for the latter as I knelt down next to him and rolled him over to look at his face. It was him. My fingers fumbled in a panic for his wrist; was there a pulse? My hysteria rose further as I failed to find a pulse, so I pressed my ear to his chest, searching for a heartbeat. Still nothing. Starting to hyperventilate myself now, I began pushing hard on his chest, determined to get his heart beating again. I pressed my lips to his, forcing air into his lungs, willing him to live. Suddenly, I saw his chest begin to rise and fall again, and I could feel his heart beating under my tense fingertips. I sighed in relief, and only then I realize that tears had been pouring down my face. I searched blindly for my phone, and fumbled blindly with the buttons. Vash often teased me about having a mobile with a keypad, as opposed to a smartphone (he has an iPhone 5S or something, and it amused me how something so small could cost so much! He was normally so opposed to spending money that his recent purchase had shocked me beyond belief) yet I preferred the simplicity of a 'normal' phone. I dialed 999 hurriedly, and prayed for someone to pick up.

"Which service do you require? Fire, police, ambulance or coastguard?"

"A... A... Ambulance please!" stuttered Roderich.

"Hello?" came a new voice. "What is your emergency?"

"I've found a man unconscious in an alley, his heart wasn't... His heart wasn't beating. It is now though, and he's breathing, but unconscious."

"Where are you?"

"Um, I think it's Hamblin Alley, just off Francesca Street."

"Keep him breathing, perform CPR again if necessary, an ambulance has been called for, it should be with you shortly."

* * *

 

Roderich stayed on the phone for the next few minutes, whilst the operator kept him informed as to where the ambulance was. In the distance, he could hear the scream of sirens.

"I can hear the ambulance!"

"Good, it should be with you shortly: the GPS says it should be in Trenchard Avenue."

Roderich sighed in relief; help would be here soon.

"It's in Napier Terrace now, it will be with you soon"

The screeching sound reached unbearable levels, and Roderich saw bright blue flashing lights as the ambulance jerked to a halt.

"Out of the way please sir." ordered a paramedic, as him and two others began loading Gilbert into the ambulance.

"Please! Let me go with him! I have to know he's alright!"

"Well, I'm not sure, I mean..."

"I don't know if he has any family anywhere near here or not, and can you imagine how panicked he'd be if he woke up and saw no-one at all he recognized!"

"Fine, let's not waste time in arguing." said the paramedic, as Gilbert was wheeled on a stretcher into the ambulance. Roderich stepped in after the paramedics, and sat down as the ambulance pulled away, lights pulsing and sirens blaring.

The medical team automatically hooked Gilbert up to an oxygen tank, and began taking his blood pressure.

"Is he okay?" asked Roderich, resisting the urge to leap to his feet and crowd round Gilbert - he knew he would only be a hindrance if he did.

"His condition is stable at the moment, yet we won't know what's wrong with him for certain until he gets to hospital."

Roderich fretted the whole way there.

* * *

 

At the hospital, Gilbert was wheeled into a ward with four beds including his own, one of which was filled with a very irritable Englishman. If it wasn't that his food was too hot, then it was that the air conditioning was too loud: the man seemed to have a talent for complaining. Roderich, who had seen the man being wheeled into the ward had had felt an instant wave of sympathy for all of the doctors and nurses who would have to deal with him, groaned inwardly. Great. He would have to either buy some ear plugs, or sneak some sleeping draught into the man's food. Roderich waited patiently for Gilbert to wake, as he was sure he would prefer to hear Roderich's story of events rather than the wholly inaccurate version the doctors would spout. So far, the medical team were completely mystified as to what was wrong with him: they had run tests for every drug under the sun, had ruled out a heart attack or a stroke, had debated an Enlarged Heart, and then ruled that out too, along with Cardiac Arrhythmia and several other conditions Roderich had never even heard of before.

Gilbert stirred groggily, then his eyes fluttered open, before wincing at the bright hospital lights.

"Where the hell am I?" asked Gilbert sleepily.

"You're in hospital; you collapsed in Hamblin Alley about an hour ago, but the doctors can't find out what's wrong with you. They've tested you for all sorts of drugs, as well as every type of heart condition I've ever heard of."

"And who the heck are you? I recognise you, but why you're by my fricking hospital bed, I have no idea!"

"Oh, sorry, I'm Roderich Edelstein, I found you in an alley, and had to give you CPR as your heart wasn't beating. You recognise me as I spoke to you earlier in the cafe."

"But why the hell are you here?"

"Because I found you in the alley!"

"But that doesn't explain why you are still here! No normal person would waste an hour of their evening sitting by a stranger's hospital bed!"

Roderich contemplated this for a moment before nodding slowly:

"To be honest, I don't even know why I'm still here, I mean, I don't even know your name!"

The man hesitated for a while, before saying:

"Gilbert. Gilbert Beilschmidt."

"Nice to meet you Gilbert." smiled Roderich primly.

Gilbert sniggered at his formality, until Roderich's face became thoughtful and pensive.

"I suppose... I suppose I was curious,not only as to why you collapsed, but why someone like you would have gone to a cafe like that, as you don't look like a concert goer!"

Gilbert smiled faintly.

"I go to concerts, all the time!"

Roderich looked at him scepticaly.

"Rock, punk and heavy metal concerts!"

Roderich laughed, and Gilbert's faint smile widened.

"So what's your favorite band then? Will I have heard of them?" asked Roderich, trying to steer the conversation away from his reasons for being there in the first place. He wasn't even sure why he was there, so he couldn't begin to explain it to someone else!

"You won't have heard of them, even if you did listen to punk music! They're called Тараканы, or Cockroaches."

Roderich looked bemused for a second.

"You're right, I haven't heard of them!"

"I've probably heard of your favorite musicians, I'm guessing they're classical composers?"

"Yes, my favorite is Mozart; he was born in Austria like me. But I wouldn't have expected someone who likes punk music to like classical music too."

"I play the flute." said Gilbert, and seeing Roderich's face; "Not expecting that, were you Specs!"

"D... D... Don't call me that!" stuttered Roderich, blushing furiously.

"But no, I wouldn't have expected you to play the flute, I was thinking more along the lines of a trombone or something!"

"Kesesesese! I thought you would!"

"I suppose first impressions can be misleading..."

"I bet I can guess what you play!" said Gilbert confidently

"Piano, because I saw you play it; probably violin, as I can imagine you leading an orchestra; and cello or something, because most professionals I know play three instruments and I can't imagine you playing a wind or brass instrument!"

Roderich smiled at him

"You're right about the piano and violin, but I don't play the cello, I play the viola."

They continued talking for a few minutes, until a team of doctors walked in. Roderich stood up, and stepped away to make room for them, as they crowded round Gilbert's bed. Roderich would dearly have loved to tell them to give Gilbert some breathing space, yet he assumed the doctors knew what they were doing and he didn't want to get kicked out, so he stayed quiet.

"We are glad to see you awake sir, now would you mind telling us a few things: we need to know your name, address, date of birth, medical history..."

Roderich zoned out, as the doctors continued asking questions and filling out paperwork.

"Sir, we would like to keep you in overnight, to keep you under observation, and so help will be immediately at hand if you fall ill again."

"Fine, you probably want to stick more needles in my arm too, to find out what mysterious illegal substance I've taken!"

The doctors looked taken aback at this, and some even shuffled their feet guiltily.

"Now sir, the drug tests are only a precaution, we're not saying that you have knowingly taken any sort of illegal substance, but we need to find out what caused you to collapse. You could have DIED, if this young man here hadn't found you and performed CPR!"

Gilbert scowled, but said nothing, and let the doctors take his blood pressure, temperature and another blood sample.

Some time later, the doctors left, and Gilbert heaved a sigh of relief.

"Thank goodness they're gone!"

Roderich rolled his eyes, and replied:

"They only want to find out what's wrong with you, don't be too harsh on them."

Gilbert looked like he was going to give a somewhat sarky reply, yet decided against it, and merely slumped further down the bed.

"They didn't even say anything about when I can leave this goddamn hell hole!" he muttered mutinously to himself.

Roderich glanced at his watch, only to gasp in horror.

"Shoot! I should have been home a good three hours ago!"

Gilbert snickered.

"Well, not all of that can have been my fault, you said you found me an hour ago when I woke up, therefore you must have found me at ten'o'clock, meaning that you must have been wandering for about half an hour prior to that. Did you get lost or something?"

Roderich looked down at his feet and shuffled them nervously. Gilbert burst out laughing:

"Kesesesese! You didn't! Hamblin alley is right next to the cafe!"

Roderich's face went beetroot red.

"In my defense, I had been walking for a good twenty minutes before then!"

"But still! You must have been walking in a circle!"

"You think that's bad, I get lost in my house on a daily basis!

Gilbert spluttered:

"Do you live in a mansion or something? Or is your sense of direction that crap!"

Roderich's face seemed to turn an even darker shade of red, as Gilbert laughter continued raucously.

"I really should be going, it's late, and I must be getting home."

"Wait! Can you take a message to my brother, to tell him I'm alright?"

Roderich nodded, but frowned slightly at Gilbert's definition of 'alright'.

Gilbert hunted in his pockets, as he had yet to be forced into a hospital gown. He had no desire to wear a garment which had blatantly been designed by someone who had run out of material half way through, or was a incredibly perverted. Gilbert thought that the backless gown was something it was likely his old friend Francis would have been proud to have designed. He hadn't seen Francis in ages however, not since his boyfriend Matthew had left him... Gilbert remembered the heartache he had felt at the time: his boyfriend had upped sticks and moved to Canada at exactly the same time that his best friend had vanished with an unfulfilled promise to write.

Gilbert groaned in annoyance

"Sheiße! I've lost my wallet! I'll have to hope that some decent person's handed it in at the police station. I can't give you West's address now, I haven't got any paper!"

Roderich rooted in his own pockets, and produced a folded piece of embossed notepaper.

"Here, use this. It's only an old shopping list."

"Mein Gott, you use this sort of thing to write a shopping list on? You may as well write your list on a fifty pound note!" laughing Gilbert incredulously, waving he paper as Roderich also produced a fountain pen with his name engraved onto it. Gilbert raised his eyes at this too, before taking it gingerly.

"I got the paper cheap in a sale, it had been in a smoke damaged warehouse. And the pen was an eighteenth birthday present."

"How old actually are you?" asked Gilbert.

"You speak and dress like an old gentleman, yet look like you're in your twenties!"

"I'm twenty." started Roderich primly.

"Ha! Same here!" laughed Gilbert."Anyway, here's my brother's address."

Roderich took the paper, and read the address: 3 Steele Drive. Steele Drive was in the more upmarket end of town, and the houses there weren't cheap: Roderich's family had thought about buying a house there, but had instead opted to spend twice as much money on a mansion in the countryside.

"My grandfather's a CEO of a big business in the city" said Gilbert by way of explanation. "We live with him."

Roderich put the paper in his pocket, and then took the pen and pad Gilbert held out.

"What do you want me to tell him?" asked Roderich.

"Apart from the fact that I'm alive? Tell him I'm in hospital, in the McFarlane ward."

Roderich stood up.

"I'll come back and see you tomorrow, to tell you what your brother said in case he hasn't come to visit you by then. Goodbye Gilbert, I wish you all the best."

Gilbert waved goodbye too, and chose to ignore the feeling of happiness he felt in the pit of his stomach about Roderich's return the next day.

* * *

 

A lot later that evening, Ludwig left the pub, with a drunk Feliciano on his arm. The strong drink he had drunk had numbed his senses, yet his high tolerance of alcohol meant he was still capable of rational thought. The same could not be said for Feliciano. The young Italian had started dancing on the table after only a few drinks, and then his behavior had got to the point where Ludwig had had to physically restrain him. Drunken Italy had however taken this the wrong way, and had started voicing inappropriate thoughts about his German friend, punctuated with the occasional "Ve~!" or drunken hiccup. Ludwig would never be able to look at him in the same way again.

A short while after Gilbert had stormed out, Feliciano's brother Lovino had entered the bar with his Spanish boyfriend, Antonio. Antonio had been to cool with Gilbert, and Ludwig remembered him as being just as troublesome as Gilbert himself. Feliciano had managed to persuade his brother to stay for a few drinks, which he did reluctantly, and with much profanity. However, once Feliciano had managed to pass out on the bar, Lovino had taken great pleasure in throwing icy water at him, shouting for him to "Wake up, dammit!"

Lovino had left shortly before them, leaving Ludwig to take Feliciano home. However, as he helped him stumble down the street, Ludwig noticed a flash of silver in the gutter by the side of the road. He steered the Italian towards it to investigate, only to discover that it was a wallet. Bending down to pick it up, Ludwig's pulse quickened as e saw a distinctive yellow chick keycharm on it.

"Sheiße!" Ludwig swore under his breath. He hurriedly opened the wallet, looking for its owner's driving licence or some other form of identification. He swore even louder, as he read the name on the driver's licence - Gilbert Beilschmidt.

 

_~Fin_


	3. Chapter 3

Ludwig rushed home with Feliciano draped over his shoulder; the barely conscious Italian mumbling to himself the whole way. Bursting through the front door, he dumped Feliciano on the sofa unceremoniously and headed straight for the phone. He dialled Gilbert's mobile number and began bouncing on the balls of his feet, impatient for him to pick up. From the living room, the sound of a harpsichord started playing. "SHEIßE!!!!!!" swore Ludwig, as he recognized the ringtone to be a piece his brother had written the previous year along with his punk friend, Arthur. The song continued playing as Ludwig stormed into the living room. Gilbert's phone lay on the coffee table, still merrily singing away. Ludwig stabbed at the buttons on the house phone, and the music stopped as abruptly as it had started. "L... Lud... Ludwig?" slurred Feliciano from the sofa. Ludwig sighed, and went to sort out his Italian friend; he knew only too well what a handful he could be when drunk. A muffled "Ve~" came from the sofa - it was going to be a long night...

The next morning, Roderich was woken by the sun streaming through the curtains he had neglected to close the night before. Groaning loudly, he rolled over, only to come face to face with his white cat, Timmy.

He had let Vash’s sister Lilli name him, however Timmy was not as cute and cuddly as one may have expected from his name – Lilli was the only person Roderich knew who was brave enough to even attempt to pick him up, and seemed not to notice every time Timmy made a swipe for her face with his claws. The first time Vash had noticed the cat’s predatory behaviour, he had attempted to persuade Roderich to get rid of the cat yet Lilli, who was twelve at the time, had promptly burst into tears, and hugged the yowling creature to her chest. Roderich would personally have been glad to be rid of the animal, yet Lilli wouldn’t hear of such a thing, her argument being that Roderich’s other cat, Tiddiewitts, would be lonely. Tiddiewitts had been his grandmother’s cat, yet he had volunteered to look after her when his Grandmother passed away two years previously. Roderich preferred Tiddiewitts to Timmy in the same way that a child prefers chocolate ice cream to cold cauliflower. Even though she was by far the most stupid cat Roderich had ever seen, yet he couldn’t help wish it was her he had woken up to.

Roderich leapt out of bed, away from the insane cat, and scrambled for the door, clutching a sheet to his chest. He slept in boxers, but felt that it wasn’t proper to wander around the house half naked.

“Nice kitty!” he cooed nervously, backing away towards the kitchen. He grabbed the packet of cat biscuits and shook the biscuits into a ceramic cat dish. Timmy stalked into the kitchen, and meowed at the sight of the food, before hurrying over to it, whilst Roderich jumped out of the way.

Roderich shuffled back to the bedroom, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He looked at the time: 7:40.

“Oh well!” he thought to himself, “Twenty minutes extra won’t matter!”

However, his hopes for extra sleep were dashed when he saw Tiddiewitts curled up and asleep right where Roderich had been lying only minutes previously. He cursed under his breath, and went to get dressed. As he pulled on his trousers, he felt something rustle in his pocket. Pulling it out, he realized it was the paper he had written Gilbert’s brother’s name and address on. Realizing what an important job it was he had to do, he quickly finished dressing, before wolfing down some breakfast and grabbing his indigo coat.

As he headed outside, he noticed it was suspiciously quiet. Looking at his watch, he realised it was still only eight o’clock in the morning. No matter how urgent the news, telling Gilbert’s brother would have to wait, as he doubted he would want to be told such big news this early in the morning. Roderich turned and walked back into his apartment, hastily dodging out of the way of a hissing Timmy, and tripping over Tiddiewitts in the process. He would do some baking, take his mind of things.

Deciding to make Donauwelle, a traditional Austrian cake, from a recipe his Grandmother had given him, he set about finding the necessary ingredients. The cake's combination of cherries and chocolate had always comforted him, and reminded him of his Grandparents. Realizing he was in fact out of cherries, Roderich groaned as he realised he would have to go o the shop and get some.

Roderich headed for the door, again trying to avoid the cats in his way. His apartment was almost exactly opposite a shop, one of the things that he had looked for specifically when buying the place: his ability to get lost had been just as great back then. Walking through the door, the shopkeeper, Berwald Oxenstierna mumbled a "g'd mornin' 'drich" before turning back to continue stacking shelves. His fellow shopkeeper, Tino Väinämöinen, waved a cheery hello to Roderich before returning to serving customers. Roderich wandered over to the fruit isle, before bending to pick up a pot of cherries.

“They’re b’y one g’t one free.” muttered Berwald from the other side of the shop. Roderich, always one for saving money, picked up a second pot, before heading for the checkout, however turning down the wrong isle and ending up on the complete opposite side of the store on the way.

Arriving back at his apartment, Roderich realized that buying two pots of cherries was in fact, a rather stupid move: he wouldn’t get a chance to use them both up before they went mouldy. Suddenly, his brain flickered back to a certain silverette, currently residing in a hospital bed; a home-made cake would be sure to cheer him up! Roderich quickly set about making a double-sized batch of the cake – he could give half to Gilbert and bring him some form of relief from the monotonous boredom of the hospital, whilst at the same time using up the second pot of cherries. Roderich put the cake in the oven with a self-satisfied smile, before turning to survey his kitchen. It looked like a bomb had hit it, and then a hurricane come along and shaken up what was left. Groaning, Roderich grabbed a cloth and began cleaning.

About an hour later, Roderich had taken the cake out of the oven, and deemed it a socially acceptable time to pay Ludwig a visit. He put his coat back on and headed out of the door, clutching his hand-held sat-nav that he had extravagantly bought himself after taking a wrong turn whilst in Amsterdam and ending up in the Red Light District (an experience he would rather forget)!

Roderich cautiously approached Ludwig’s front door, before timidly ringing the doorbell. A loud cacophony of dogs barking came from inside, before a cheerful young man with auburn hair came to the door.

“H… Hello. Are you Ludwig Beilschmidt?” stuttered Roderich nervously.

“Nope! I’m Feliciano Vargas but you can call me Feli, and Ludwig is here but I think he’s still aslee…” The young man broke off suddenly as a new person, who was incredibly tall and muscular, with blond hair came to the door.

“Hello?” he said brusquely. “What do you want?”

Roderich stumbled over his words again, scared by the man’s imposing presence.

“A… Are… Are you L… Ludwig?”

“Yes, I am. What was it you wanted?”

“Well, you see, it’s about your brother, Gilbert. He…”

“Whatever, he’s done, give me the bill, and I will make him pay for it.” butted in Ludwig, sighing exasperatedly. This was not an infrequent occurrence then.

“No sir, you appear to have got the wrong idea, Gilbert hasn’t done anything wrong; he’s in hospital, and sent me to tell you.”

Ludwig paled at this, and Feliciano, who had been hovering behind Ludwig, piped up, saying:

“Is Gilbert alright? He looked ill yesterday, didn’t he Luddy! Ve~! I hope he’s alright, he won’t die will he Luddy? He’ll be fine won’t h…”

“Feliciano!” cried Ludwig, throwing his hands in the air. “Calm down, please.” He turned to Roderich:

“Please, come in. Feliciano will make you a cup of tea if you want it.”

“Oooo! Tea! Do you want sugar Mr Roderich? Or milk? Or both even! I like both, but Luddy only lik…” Feliciano stopped talking instantly as Ludwig spun round to glare at him.

“Today would be nice Feliciano.”

Roderich followed Ludwig to the living room, wondering curiously who Feliciano was.

“Please excuse Feliciano,” said Ludwig apologetically. “He tends to get a little over-excited. He stayed the night as he was drunk last night. I have no idea how he has even managed to wake up yet: he doesn’t even appear to have a hangover!”

Roderich smiled; Feliciano seemed far too energetic and lively for something such as a hangover to affect him!

“Anyway,” he said, once Feliciano had handed him a cup of tea and bounced over to the other settee, plopping down next to an exasperated Ludwig. “Gilbert is in hospital, as he collapsed last night in Hamblin alley, and his heart stopped beating. He has been tested for all sorts of substance abuse, as well as numerous heart conditions, but the doctors can’t seem to tell what’s wrong with him.”

“Is he alright now?” asked Ludwig frantically. “My brother is not know for being able to look after himself!”

Bored with the non-pasta related conversation, Feliciano scrambled off of the sofa and headed of to the kitchen.

"I think he's okay, but I'm not sure. He's in Townsend Ward and, judging from his attitude yesterday when he woke up, he would dearly love some visitors. I'm not sure if the other man in the ward could deal with Feliciano though!" Roderich added in an undertone.

Ludwig nodded knowingly, and paused again before speaking.

"I think he dropped his wallet: I found it in the street. And if you see him before me, can you tell him hat Gilbird is okay? I know Gilbert doesn't seem like an overly affectionate person, but he has this little yellow bird he seems to be obsessed with!"

"Gilbird." said Roderich simply. "He named a bird after himself."

"It's the sort of thing he would do; my brother can be an arrogant idiot when he wants to be!"

"Yes..." said Roderich sagely. "I got that feeling whilst speaking to him yesterday!" He looked at his watch.

"Visiting hours start at 11am, and I'm sure Gilbert would be more than grateful for the company."

"Before you go, thank you Roderich. For saving Mein Bruder when I couldn't myself."

 

_~Fin_


	4. Chapter 4

"Why?" thought Roderich to himself as he iced the second Donauwelle cake, artistically creating the swirled topping.

"Why do I always feel drawn back to him? He’s a relative stranger, I don’t even know him!”

He continued icing the cake, before putting it into a tin and checking the lid fit without damaging the intricate pattern on top.

“I don’t know him, but I want to…”

“Just tell me when I can get out of here!” roared Arthur from the opposite bed to Gilbert.

“I’m really sorry sir, but we have to keep you in a bit longer, to keep tabs on you…”

The man growled ominously before muttering what sounded like magical incantations darkly under his breath.

“Great.” Though Gilbert under his breath: not only was the man opposite the most demanding sod known to mankind, he was also crazy. Crazier than his American boyfriend who Gilbert had the misfortune of being awake to see (though he doubted he could have stayed snoozing for long if he had been asleep – the man’s voice was so loud it was a wonder it couldn’t be heard a mile away!).

“Santra ba~dra winza~rana~ wonpa~to~rana intrakantera…” came the mutterings. Gilbert slouched down further under his blankets and wished he had his iPod with him.

“Bruder?” said a familiar voice from the doorway.

“West!” cried Gilbert happily, glad for a distraction. “How are you?”

“I should be asking you that.” Replied Ludwig drily. “Do they know what’s wrong with you?”

“No.” he lowered his voice to a whisper, “I don’t think they know what’s wrong with that guy over there either…”

“So this is a ward for unknown cases then?”

“Probably. But that guy is weird: he acts all refined, but from what I’ve overheard the doctors saying, he collapsed at a punk concert, so it’s quite likely that he’s taken some drug the police haven’t gotten round to making illegal yet.”

"Hang on, isn't he your old friend Arthur, the one who wrote that song you use as your ringtone with you?"

"Oh yeah! it is! I fell out with him as he started getting involved with drugs."

“The man who found you said that the doctors had tested you for drugs – do you think this could be a drug-testing ward?”

“Perhaps…” Gilbert looked at his brother. “Do you mean Roderich? Nice guy, quite posh but not stuck up.”

Ludwig looked at Gilbert in confusion. “You remembered his name after meeting him once? It took you _weeks_ to learn Feli’s name!”

“That’s because his name is so long! How do you expect me to remember _Feliciano_ in one go!”

“ _I_ did.”

“Yeah, but that’s just you.”

They continued their brotherly banter for a few more minutes, before the doctor walked over to Gilbert’s bed.

“Good morning sir, you have a visitor I see.”

“My brother.” Said Gilbert, irritated about being interrupted. Ludwig merely nodded politely.

Gilbert looked at the doctor with accusing eyes. “So do you know what’s wrong with me yet?”

“Sir, we cannot know anything for sure…”

“Well what do you know?” Gilbert’s voice rose, until he was shouting in frustration. Ludwig moved closer to Gilbert protectively.

“We’re really not certain, and we wouldn’t want to worry you…”

“WHAT DO YOU KNOW?” roared Gilbert and Ludwig together, as one voice. The doctor went white, before stuttering out a response:

“I… I have to fetch the head doctor.”

Gilbert growled in frustration, and scowled at the new doctor who entered the ward, the scared junior scuttling along in his wake.

“Good morning Mr Beilschmidt. We have the results back from some further tests, and we have discovered that your illness is nothing to do with drug abuse of any sort.”

“I could have told you that myself!” cried Gilbert, infuriated. “And I _have_ told you that repeatedly over the last twelve hours I’ve had the misfortune to be here!” The doctor waited patiently for Gilbert’s outburst to end, before replying.

“However, we have found that your heart appears to be behaving strangely, yet we have no idea what could be causing it to happen. Your heartbeat appears to have moments where it is incredibly weak, and that is probably what caused you to pass out in Hamblin Alley. We believe that you are not only lucky to be alive, but also unlucky, as you seem to have a naturally weak heart. The only solution we can think of is a heart transplant, but that in itself is highly dangerous and it will be difficult to find a donor any time in the near future.”

Gilbert’s face had turned deathly pale, as had Ludwig’s. The fear in both their eyes was obvious.

“And… And that’s the only solution?” stammered Gilbert, feeling nauseous.

“I’m afraid it is the only practical option, unless you wish to do nothing, which may mean that you can live unhindered for many more years. However, you may also have another blackout like last night, and there might not always be someone around to save you. I hope you can understand the gravity of this situation.”

“Yeah. I’m going to die. Soon.”

“Well, if you can get a heart donor, you have a chance of a full recovery.”

“If I can get a donor… but what’s the likelihood of that hey?”

“I’ll leave you two alone now.” Said the doctor tactfully, and left the ward, the Englishman still chanting curses under his breath.

“What am I going to do, West?” said Gilbert desperately, as the tears he had been fighting began to spill over…

  _~Fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Santra ba~dra winza~na~wonpa~to~rana intrakantera
> 
> It is absolute rubbish, and is just England's magic words. They're taken from his Evil Demon Summoning Song...


	5. Chapter 5

Roderich could sense that something was wrong the second he stepped into the ward. The air was thick with the impenetrable aura of death and, as far as he could tell, this wave of bad feeling was not only coming from the head case in the corner.

“Haruka naru chi yori shoukan suru!”

Roderich rolled his eyes, before turning and addressing the pile of blankets on the bed to his left.

“Good morning Gilbert, what’s happened?”

A muffled, choking sob came from under the green hospital blankets, followed by a rasping “Leave me alone!”

Roderich sat down by Gilbert’s bed, concerned.

“Is it something the doctors have told you? Can you tell me?”

A shock of tousled white hair peeked out from under the blankets, followed by a pair of bloodshot red eyes.

“I’m going to die.”

Roderich felt the blood drain from his face.

“What did the doctors say to you?”

“They said that my heart is basically crap at being a heart, so I either need a transplant or it’ll just give up on me. Not very reassuring!”

Roderich looked horrified and Gilbert, distraught as he was, didn’t want to cause any more tears to be shed on his behalf. If his brother, whom he hadn’t seen cry since he was a child, even when their Grandfather died, had broken down into sobs, he dreaded to think what this pansy’s reaction would be.

“So what’s in the box, Specs?” he joked, changing the subject.

Roderich’s face turned a delicate shade of pink, as he slowly lifted the lid off the cake tin.

“I made you a cake, to try and relieve the boredom of hospital life for you. I probably shouldn’t have brought it right on lunchtime though…” he glanced at the clock: ten minutes past one.

“Awesome!” gasped Gilbert, his mouth watering at the sight of the cake. “I may actually eat something other than inedible hospital slop today!”

Roderich snickered; even at the private hospital where he was a patient, the quality of the food was severely lacking.

“Is that guy over there trying to summon a demon or something?” Roderich asked Gilbert quietly, as Arthur began muttering to himself again, his hands rising above his head.

“Yeah, I think so. He’s an old friend from a few years ago, I fell out with him when he started getting involved with drugs. He apparently collapsed at a punk concert. I’m frankly not surprised.”

“Haruka naru chi yori shoukan suru!”

“Any idea what he’s saying?” asked Roderich, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of it.

“Not a clue! I think it’s Japanese though, Arthur used to think that ninja’s were Satan’s acrobats or something like that!”

At this, Roderich burst out laughing, and looked around furtively before sliding a plastic knife out of his pocket and proceeding to cut the cake. Gilbert started laughing too, as the knife simply bent and threatened to break in two instead of actually cutting the cake.

“I figured the nurses would skin me alive if I brought a metal knife in here!” he said by way of explanation.

Eventually, Roderich handed Gilbert a piece of cake, wrapped in a napkin he had also managed to bring with him.

“Do you like it?” he asked shyly, as Gilbert took a massive bite out of the slice. “It’s called Donauwelle.”

Gilbert’s eyes closed in bliss as he swallowed the cake.

“That,” he said, pausing for emphasis, “was the best damn piece of cake ever!”

Roderich beamed at him, delighted.

“Well, you’ve got a whole tin of it to eat, and I can make you another one if you want it!”

“I struck lucky last night, being found by a guy with supernatural cooking skills!”

“I’m just glad you like it!” smiled Roderich, swelling with pride.

“So what do you do when you’re not playing in concerts of trying to destroy people’s figures with awesome cake?” smirked Gilbert cockily.

“Well, not much, I tend to just sit around drinking tea.” Roderich looked up at Gilbert from under his eyelashes guiltily.

‘Aww, how adorable!’ Thought Gilbert to himself at Roderich’s flustered face.

“Don’t you have any friends to do things with?

“I… I have my partner, Vash, but other than him, I don’t really have any friends…”

Gilbert felt a pang in his chest; Roderich was taken. He quickly shook his head: he’d only know this guy a day; he shouldn’t be feeling like this about him!

“I can’t see why you don’t have any friends, what did you do when you were at school?” Gilbert couldn’t imagine how he could have survived school without Francis and Antonio. The three had met on their first day of nursery school in the sandpit, and all through school, they had been inseparable. A teacher at their middle school had even gone as far as to call them the Bad Touch Trio, as they seemed to magnetically attract trouble, and the name had stuck.

“Well… I had one friend, a Hungarian girl named Elizaveta Hédévary. She went to the same Prep school as me in Vienna; the Stratford Academy. My parents were quite rich, so could afford to send me there easily, and I thought hers were too, especially since she was a boarder and had to travel from Germany each term. I could never understand why my parents wouldn’t let me see her outside of school though, and why they never liked it when I talked about her.  It turned out that her parents could barely afford the fees any more, as her Father had lost his job. My parents were social climbers, they still are, and didn’t want their ‘Little Darling’ associating with someone whose parents couldn’t afford the five-figure sum necessary to attend the school. She left at the end of year four, to go to a state school instead.” Roderich smiled sadly. “She was a lovely girl, very protective of her friends, but a bit of a tomboy, so that’s probably another reason why my parents didn’t like her.

Gilbert looked at him incredulously. “You say she was called Elizaveta Hedevary?”

“Yes…”

“Do you know what school she left to go to?”

“I… I think it was Henning Middle school or something…”

Gilbert fell back on the bed, laughing his head off.

“You… You knew… Elizaveta!” he spluttered in-between laughs.

“Do you know her too or something?”

“Too right I knew her! I went to Henning Middle too, and along with Francis and Toni, she was one of my best friends! We argued about everything, and frequently hit me and Francis round the head with a frying pan in food when the teacher wasn’t looking!”

“That sounds like her!” said Roderich. “I thought she was a boy at first in fact, and so did most of our class!”

“Yeah, I thought she was at first, and she hit me when I told her I had only just realized she was a girl… I can clearly remember wearing sunglasses for a week to hide the black eye!”

Roderich started laughing at this too, before suddenly thinking of something.

“You… You don’t have her number still do you?”

“Yeah, I’m sure I do – West made me go through our address book the other day checking it was up to date, and I just dialled all the numbers and asked people where they lived, instead of writing letters to everyone like he expected me to.”

“Lazy.” Roderich remarked, smiling.

“Speak for yourself, four-eyes, at least I don’t just sit around drinking tea all day!”

“Well what do you do then?”

“Sit at home playing video games sponging off my brother, what else?”

“I sincerely hope you’re joking!”

“Chill Specs! I live with my brother, sure, but I pay him rent. I’m an assistant in the local music shop.”

“How come I’ve never seen you there?”

“You go to Royal’s don’t you, if you play the violin and piano. I work at Gale’s – we sell woodwind, brass, guitars, drum kits and the like. You’ve probably never been there.”

“You’re right, I haven’t been there.”

“So, do you still want Liz’s number?”

“Yes please! It would be brilliant to meet her again.”

Gilbert pulled a pad of paper and a pen from a bag of essentials Ludwig had left him, before scribbling down a number. “There you go, she’ll probably be glad to hear from you – I think she mentioned something about a musical kid she used to be at school with once.”

Roderich neatly folded the paper before tucking it into his pocket. As he was doing so, his phone started playing a very tinny rendition of the Overture from Carmen.

“Sheiße!” hissed Roderich – he had forgotten to turn off his phone, as he so rarely used it.

“Tut tut!” smirked Gilbert, “You can go if you want, West said he’d drop in again later, so I won’t get _too_ bored! Besides,” he smiled up at Roderich, “I have cake!”

“Don’t eat it all at once, you’ll be sick!”

“Yes _Mother_!” he smirked. “Will I see you again?”

“I’ll be back tomorrow – you can count on it!”

_~Fin_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
> Haruka naru chi yori shoukan suru!
> 
> \- I summon thee from the distant earth!
> 
> Japanese, yet it's completly different from Google translate - again, it's from the Demon Song


	6. Chapter 6

Lukas snuck out of the front door to their mansion, before hurriedly clambering into his car. Anna had gone out for the night with some old university friends, and had offered to bring Lukas with her, to give him something to do that evening. However, Lukas found her friends the single most annoying people on the planet.

Annaliese would probably bring along her friend Natalya, who was probably a paid assassin, and would kill him for fun on her day off, especially if you messed with her brother, Ivan. Lukas shuddered in terror as he sped out of the driveway.

The other two were the worst. Not because they were axe murderers, or assassins or anything remotely scary. It was because they were happy. All the freaking time. It drove Lukas to distraction, and whenever Anna oh-so-cheerfully announced that one of them would be coming for tea, Lukas made a beeline for the aspirin.

One was Françoise: and not only did she also smile in a scary fashion and have eyebrows that were constantly waggling, she would read *ahem* 'inappropriate' things aloud. At the dinner table. IN FRONT OF ANY OTHER GUESTS WHO HAPPENED TO HAVE VISITED. Lukas knew his wife was a bit of a pushover, however she was usually able to calm most of her friends down, and call the house to some sense of order. Fran was one of two people she was completely powerless to resist, along with the worst out of all the friends: Isabel.

Not only did she appear to be either constantly high or FAR too untroubled, she took great delight out of pranks and schemes, as well as generally annoying people. She also had an uncanny knack for putting her foot in it.

That was why Lukas had politely declined the offer, and had instead said he wanted to stay at home and practice his violin.

However, as soon as his wife's car was out of the earshot, his violin had gone back into its case and the eyeliner and ripped t-shirt had come out, and Lukas had run for the door.

Underneath his whole austere persona lurked a secret, hidden, punk.

Lukas also had another secret: he was seeing someone else. And that someone was a man.

Mathias was like the sun to Lukas; he was also always happy, but this somehow didn't annoy him as much as Anna's friends did. His happiness made Lukas happy too, and that had to be a good thing, right?

Mathias knew Lukas's position, how he was married and had a grown up son, but Lukas had begged him to forget that, and just love him for who he was.

There was one small problem in their relationship however: what would they do if people found out?

 

_~Fin_


	7. Chapter 7

Roderich awoke bright and early the next morning, and took a good ten minutes to realise why he was so happy – he was going to see Gilbert again. Many people had told Roderich that he seemed most antisocial, and he would have to agree with them – he was not one for idle chit chat – however he felt an inexplicable urge to actually be friendly and talk to Gilbert about, well; anything to be honest – Roderich would have willingly talked for hours about something as mundane as breakfast cereal! Gilbert had been one of the first people to hear Roderich play, and not instantly try to suck up to him because of his musical prowess, yet still be friendly towards him in a way that had been alien to him for many years.

Hurriedly throwing on a lilac dress shirt and beige chinos, Roderich grabbed his keys and bounced out of his apartment with a spring in his step.

He smiled charmingly at the nurses who let him into the ward, and his mood lifted even further when he saw that Gilbert was sitting up in bed, yet the faraway, staring look in his red rimmed eyes instantly shattered Roderich’s joyful feeling. He ran the last few steps before slowing to settle into the chair next to Gilbert, not wanting to startle him.

“Morning.” Said Roserich, careful to avoid saying ‘Good’ morning, as Gilbert’s morning appeared to be anything but if his shell-shocked face was anything to go by.

Gilbert started violently, then looked around, and his eyes regained some of their light when he saw Roderich sitting next to him.

“Morning, how are you?”

“I could ask you the same question, but I don’t think I’ll like the answer.”

Gilbert took a deep breath.

“I have some good news, and some bad news. The good news is they’re letting me go home tomorrow.”

Roderich’s face lit up in delight, before it sank, and was clouded by confusion.

“I thought the doctors said you were incredibly sick and dying?”

“Yeah, but they said there’s nothing to be gained by keeping me in hospital, as if my heart fails, it’s too weak for them to restart it with a defibrillator or whatever.”

“So what’s the bad news?”

“You’ve guessed it already – they’re letting me go because they can’t do anything for me.”

Roderich wasn’t sure whether to try and console Gilbert, who now had tears running silently down his cheeks, or to keep quiet. He settled for resting his left arm on Gilbert’s shoulder, rubbing it soothingly whilst his tears dripped onto his nightgown, and fiddling nervously with the cuff of his own sleeve.

“Y- You must th- think I’m a r- right wuss, crying l- like this!” stuttered Gilbert, his shoulders starting to shake. He turned his head towards Roderich, seeking a closer, more comforting embrace. Roderich stopped playing with his sleeve, and hugged Gilbert close, as the sobs racked his whole body, tears soaking into Roderich’s shirt. Roderich buried his face in Gilbert’s hair as he too began to weep.

“”Y- you’re braver than I w- would be, if I was in y- your situation! I d- don’t think I would b- be able to cope – I w- would have found some way t- to overdose on pills or s- something.”

“Don’t speak like that.” Gilbert said vehemently, suddenly sitting bolt upright, startling Roderich. “Being pessimistic won’t get us anywhere.”

“You’re right, and deep down in my heart I know that suicide is a coward’s way out, but it does seem like a preferable outcome to living, if there is nothing to live for.”

“There will always be something to live for.” Said Gilbert confidently, “We just can’t always tell.”

Roderich looked thoughtful for a minute, before Gilbert started speaking again:

“You keep that heart beating, you hear me?” He rested a hand on Roderich’s chest, right over his heart. Roderich started at the spark of electricity that seemed to shoot through all his veins, before leading back to his heart, where Gilbert’s hand was still firmly placed. “You keep that heart beating. If mine decides to die on me, the least I can do to the world is make sure someone else’s stops due to them not being able to cope with life for whatever reason. If there were no hardships in life, we wouldn’t be able to fully enjoy the better moments.”

Roderich thought deeply over the meaning behind the words for a minute, before realising something.

“You’ve suffered terribly in your life haven’t you.” He stated, “More than you’d care to let on. And you haven’t told anybody have you.”

Gilbert looked taken aback for a moment, at Roderich’s assumptions, and at how he had guessed such a large part of his past in the smace of a few minutes.

“You’re mostly right,” he admitted, looking down at his lap, “About the suffering. But someone knows, other than you I mean. My brother.”

“Roderich rested his hand on Gilbert’s cheek and turned his face to look at him, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not partic–” Gilbert started, before changing his mind, “Yes.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “What you have to understand, is I was from a deeply religious family, and I was their ‘demon-child’. The blood red eyes, scarily pale skin; I was all their worst nightmares rolled into one. From a young age, I was blamed for everything that went wrong, even if I had no earthly way of committing the crime myself. I mostly just hid in some corner of the house to avoid everyone.”

Roderich’s eyes were already misting over with fresh tears.

“Look, if you can’t handle that, there’s no way you can face the whole story! Man up, Princess!” Gilbert smirked, before continuing, “Things got better when my parents had Ludwig, they stopped spending every waking minute shouting at me. However, all of their attention was now on the perfect little blonde haired, blue eyed boy with the charming smile who could do no wrong. You would have thought I would’ve hated him, but I was just pleased to be left alone. I wasn’t ever supposed to be in the same room as him, in case my appearance scared him, but I took great delight in flaunting that rule, and Lud seemed enjoy my appention. One thing that my parents hated about him though, was his first word; I used to sit by him when I had the chance and try to teach him to speak, by pointing at things. I would point at him, and say ‘Lud’ or myself, saying ‘Gil’. When my Mother was rocking him one day, he suddenly piped up saying “Giwl~!” which made her furious. She, of course, blamed me, saying that her having to shout at me caused him to know my name, but I knew he was talking about me. I was the only person in our house who showed him real love, not just sibling preference.” Gilbert looked lost in thought for a moment, before continuing,

“On my first day at primary school, I met Francis and Antonio, who were in my class, and attempting to place a water bomb on the teacher’s chair. I joined in, and when the poor lady sat on it, we were unable to stop ourselves collapsing with laughter. I think we set a new record for the shortest time to get a detention –five minutes into the first day of the first year! And my family didn’t even care!”

Roderich looked appalled at Gilbert’s idea of a ‘harmless prank’, but the silverette just laughed and continued with his story, “The threeof us were inseperable from that day on, earning the name of ‘Bad Touch Trio’ due to our love of pranking! The only time I was truly happy was at school, but that only made home seem worse. If anything, Francis and Antonio’s houses were more like home than anywhere else.”

Roderich could sense that the story was about to take a turn for the worse, as Gilbert appeared to be tensing up.

“When I went to middle school, I met Veta, but you already know that, who didn’t get along with Francis and Toni, but still hung out we me all the same. However, my home life was getting worse and worse. Ludwig was old enough to realise what my parents were doing to me was wrong, and kept out of any arguments I had with my parents, even though they kept trying to drag him into them, and take their side. One day, when I was 12, I broke I plate, and Ludwig tried to cover for me by saying it was him, however my parents became even for furious at that, and accused me of bewitching him. For me that was the final straw. I ran out of the house, and even though Lud tried to chase me – he was surprisingly fast for his age – I was faster. I ran to the highest carpark in town and jumped of the roof, trying to kill myself. Howefer, I hadn’t thought to check the ground beneath me, so I landed on a flat roof, meaning I fell only a few metres. It was still far enough that I broke both my legs and an arm though. When a lady heard me screaming for help, she called for an ambulance, whilst trying to console me, as I was howling to all four corners of the earth. I wasn’t crying because of the pain though, even though it hurt worse than you could possibly imagine. I was crying because I was still alive. You can’t possibly begin to imagine how desparately I wanted to die.” He paused before continuing, “When the ambulance came, and I went to hospital, I refused to speak, or answer any of their questions, I just kept wailing that I wanted to die. They sedated me after the first few minutes, but eventually calmed me down enough to find out my name and address. My parents refused to come and visit me, and Ludwig told me that they were disappointed that I hadn’t died.”

Roderich now had tears dripping off his chin, distraught at how Gilbert had wanted to take his own life so badly, and how his parents would have preferred their first born son dead.

“Ludwig snuck in to see me after school, skipping one of his many sports clubs, and said that he’d managed to get in contact with my Grandfather, Fritz, who hadn’t heard from my family in years. He knew I existed, but very little more. Ludwig told him how my parents were treating me, and how I had tried to kill myself, and he had instantly come to the hospital to see me. When I was allowed out, I didn’t even bother going home. Ludwig brought me my school stuff and I went to live with Grandpa. The only people who knew any of this at school were Francis, Toni and Veta.”

Roderich was now chewing oh so inticingly on his bottom lip, causing Gilbert to smile wanly.

“From then on, I lived a normal childhood. Lud went to a grammar school, so I didn’t see him during the day, but Old Fritz’s house was on his way home, so he would stop in to see me every day.”

“But did your teachers not know that your address had changed?”

“My parents just binned any letters that came home anyway, so it made no difference.” He suddenly became lost in thought, before faintly smiling at Roderich, “It seems like I’m finally getting my wish after all.”

“What wish?” asked Roderich, confused.

“Dying. My heart’s failing on me, ten years too late.”

“D-don’t speak like that!” Roderich cried, breaking into fresh floods of tears. “You said that your life got better, why would you want to die now?”

“I don’t particularly want to die now, but if you’d asked me back then, I’d have willingly volounteered to be like this, even without the guaranteed companion!” at this, he smiled warmly at Roderich, who smiled back through misty eyes.

From the other end of the ward, they could hear a nurse talking to Arthur.

“Mr Kirkland, we will be able to let you out of here in a few days, is that all right?”

“About bloody time!” he grumbled in response.

“That sounds like good ol’ Arthur all right!” laughed Gilbert. “Look, cheer up,” he said, as Roderich was still sniffling and wiping his nose on a silk handkerchief, “It’s all in the past though, so it’s nothing to get upset about. I’m just glad someone cares."

"We wouldn't be human if we didn't."

The nurse then walked over to Gilbert's bed, and looked sympathetically at the pair of them.

"Mr Beilschmidt, you can leave this afternoon, as long as you have somewhere safe to go, where someone can keep constant watch over you."

"Yeah, I can go to my brother's. If he's working, his boyfriend Feli'll be home."

"Good." she walked briskly away.

"I'm going home." Gilbert whispered, mostly to himself.

"Wait!" Roderich cried, suddenly panicking, "Will I ever see you again?"

"Course you will Specs! You think the awesome me would let you vanish off the face of the earth?"

"I suppose not! I was just being silly really - I haven't had a friend I can be so open with in years!"

"What about you fiance?"

Roderich was suddenly stumped for a moment, struck with guilt for forgetting about Vash. "Oh... Ah... Well..." he stuttered, unable to class Vash as one of his closest friends.

He knew he should be able to, and that he should not put more trust in or be having feelings for the man he met less than a week ago, but Vash was mostly someone he was _supposed_  to love, rather than someone he felt he would give up everything for.

In short, Vash wasn't _Gilbert_.

 

_~Fin_


	8. Chapter 8

Roderich sighed, resigning himself to an evening of boredom and frustration at being kept from the one person who could draw a smile from him, stuck instead with his stuffy parents and fiancé. He smoothed down the fabric of his blue coat, and straightened his jabot, before grabbing his keys and exiting his apartment.

"Good evening Roderich dear!" trilled his Mother uncharacteristically.

Roderich looked at her obvious display of fake happiness sceptically, before hanging up his blue coat and wandering into the living room.

"Vash is already here, he's just gone to the loo" said his Father from the settee, where he had been reading the newspaper. " _That explained the happiness_ " thought Roderich: he knew his parents had been seemingly more distant recently, and sometimes the aura of distrust in the room was so think it could be cut with a knife.

"Thank you, Father" Roderich said cordially, before sitting down on the edge of another sofa, bolt upright. Somehow, he never felt truly able to relax, even in his own home. " _This is why you moved out, remember?_ " he said to himself, as Vash re-emerged from the kitchen.

An hour later, Roderich decided he would have preferred to be  _anywhere_  than where he currently was – even next to the loudspeakers at a heavy metal concert! His parents had cross examined him about his daily activities, and Vash about when they could next go out, until he was bored to tears. He wondered how he had managed to stand these evenings before – surely this one was no different to normal? " _It_ is _different_ " the subconscious part of his mind told him, " _You've met Gilbert now._ " He contemplated this for a minute, before answering himself, " _But what does meeting a new friend have to do with dinner with my parents and fiancé?"_ he continued arguing thus with himself, before coming to the only logical conclusion he could think of (if he discounted  _any_  odd feelings of undeniable happiness and overwhelming joy he felt when he was around Gilbert – he was engaged, dammit!). " _I'm far too used to Gilbert's noise – I've forgotten what calm company is like."_ As he thought this, he couldn't help a small smile forming on his lips. " _Why do I even bother denying this anymore!"_ his thoughts continued, " _I'm not even fooling myself."_

He was jolted out of his thoughts when he suddenly heard Vash utter his name.

"Roderich? Are you alright?"

Roderich looked up at Vash's face expectantly, the picture of innocence.

"Yes?"

"Why were you smiling? We were discussing the national debt!"

"Oh, sorry. I was miles away!"

"Do you want to go home? I can stay with you for a while if you want."

"That would be nice, thank you."

Roderich was surprized by Vash's attentiveness, and automatically on his guard. Within Vash's eyes, there was an ulterior motive…

The other side of town, Gilbert was also having an awful night.

"Night bruder. Sleep well."

"Ve~! Nighty night Gilby!"

He sloped of to bed, sickened at the behaviour he had just witnessed. His brother: the stiff-upper-lip stick-up-his-ass person Gilbert had known all his life had changed. For one thing, he had smiled.

Fed up with the secret smiles and not-so-secret game of footsie happening under the table, Gilbert had decided that bed would be the safest place for him right now. He was right about this… for the next twenty minutes or so. After that, he was not so lucky…

It all began with Feliciano's high pitched shriek of glee from downstairs, which got louder as Gilbert heard a heavy set of footsteps – his brother's obviously, as Feli didn't walk so much as dance – thunder up the stairs.

"Great." thought Gilbert to himself. His brother was obviously  _carrying_  the little Italian upstairs; how cringe-worthy were those two?!

The footsteps stopped as they reached Gilbert's door, before merging into two as Feli was clearly placed back on the ground.

Gilbert's door opened, and Ludwig's head peered around it cautiously. "Bruder, are you awake?" he asked quietly. Gilbert feigned sleep.

The door closed again, and Gilbert heard Feliciano ask far too excitedly if Gilbert was asleep. From the delighted squeals that followed, Gilbert could tell the answer had been yes.

After the pair had stumbled into Ludwig's bedroom, Gilbert realised with a sickening horror that, due to the precise arrangement of the house, Ludwig's bed was the exact opposite side of the wall his own bed was against.

"Sheisse!" he cursed under his breath, preparing himself for the long night that was inevitably going to follow.

"Doitsu~! Ve~! Harder~!" came Feliciano's voice from next door. Gilbert shifted in bed, and pulled a pillow down over his head. It went quiet for a second, before the sounds of a bed banging into the wall sounded again. Feliciano screamed in delight.

"I shouldn't be hearing this!" whimpered Gilbert to himself.

The room went quiet for a minute, before being punctuated by more shouts, groans and bangs (pun  _definitely_  intended).

"Handcuffs, Luddy?"

There was the sound of drawers opening and closing, before the shuffling of the bed and the loud moaning came again, as did Ludwig.

It was a  _very_  long night for Gilbert.

RPOV:

Vash was silent the whole way home. He had offered to drive Roderich home, acting chivalrous in front of his parents, yet the atmosphere was even more tense than it had been before dinner.

Less than ten seconds after they had entered Roderich's apartment, Vash had spun round to face him and demand answers to his questions.

"What's up with you tonight? You seem guilty and distracted."

"I'm just tired… I had a concert the other night."

"You have a lot of concerts, yet you never act like this. What's up?"

"Like I said, nothing!"

Vash gave him a condescending look.

"Tell me  _exactly_  what has happened since I saw you before your last concert."

"Well…" Roderich suddenly realised he could turn this to his advantage. "It was terrifying!" he wailied pitifully, "I was leaving, and I got lost, and I ended up in an alleyway, and… and…"

"Yes. Go on." Vash demanded, his voice softer now, seeing how distressed Roderich was (or rather was pretending to be).

"There was this man, he wasn't moving, and when I went up to him, his heart wasn't beating!"

Roderich buried his face in Vash's chest, pretenting to be distraught at the memory and conveniently hiding his tear-free face from Vash.

"What did you do? Who was he? Is he alive?"

"I called an ambulance, what else could I do? His name's Gilbert Beilschmidt, he's alive, but the poor thing's been diagnosed with a fatally weak heart, and is not suspected to live for very much longer."

At this, Roderich broke down into fresh wave of tears.

"Anyone would think you were having an affair with him."

Roderich floundered for a second, shocked at how easily Vash had guessed his feelings for Gilbert.

"Wha… What makes you say that?"

"Only the misty eyes, and the vacant and dreamy expression when you say his name. Nothing much."

" _Am I really that obvious?"_  thought Roderich to himself, " _And do I really love him? I mean, I've only known him for a few days! Yet every time I close my eyes, it's like his face is imprinted on the back of my eyelids. Else can it be, other than love?"_

"What misty eyes?" he queried innocently, "Are you sure it's not that I'm just tired?" Roderich yawned for effect.

"Do you love him?" Vash asked bluntly, his harshness scaring Roderich slightly.

" _Don't deny it"_  his conscience nagged him, " _You'll only feel guilty for it later,"_

Roderich looked Vash directly in the eye, and answered him just as bluntly. "No. I don't."

 

_~Fin_

 


	9. Chapter 9

Gilbert was pissed off. There was no other way to put it. He hadn't had a wink of sleep, what with the ' _activities_ ' happening next door and the nightmares that followed when everything eventually went quiet.

He slouched into the kitchen, sending "evil-death-rays-of-doom™" at his brother and at Feli (who he noticed was sitting rather awkwardly on his chair).

"Morning." He grumbled sullenly, helping himself to coffee.

"Morning bruder!" Ludwig replied with far too much of an innocent tone to his voice.

"Have fun last night?" Inquired Gilbert, snickering inwardly as Ludwig squirmed under his gaze.

"Thought so."

"Luddy, what's Gil talking about~?" asked Feliciano innocently.

"Nothing you need to worry abo..."

"You had fun last night before you went to sleep did you not Feli?"

"Oh~! Si!"

"I thought as much. I could hear you through the wall."

"Sorry bruder; I thought you were asleep!" butted in Ludwig apologetically.

"I wouldn't have stayed asleep for long if I had been asleep, with the noise you were all making!"

"But it was fun wasn't it Luddy~!"

“Gilbert, if you can’t control what you say, out.”

“But West! You know I have nowhere else to go!”

“Can we do it again tonight Luddy~?”

“Gil, I was joking. Feli, now is not the time to discuss such matters.”

Ludwig stood up from the table abruptly. “I’m going to work. Gil, behave. No taking Feli shopping again.”

“But you liked that maid outfit didn’t you Luddy~”

“Ja… But that’s beside the point!” Ludwig snapped irritably, grabbing his jacket, briefcase and car keys before striding down the hallway and out of the door.

Feliciano’s face suddenly fell. “He didn’t kiss me goodbye!” he cried, his previous bouncy mood vanishing instantly. His voice became increasingly shrill and panicked as his alarm began to set in.

Gilbert recognised the signs immediately, and raced for the phone hitting speed dial.

“West?” he barked as soon as his brother picked up.

“Ja, what now Gilbert, I left less than two minutes ago.”

“Come back quickly! It’s an emergency!”

“If Gilbird’s missing again, try looking in your hair.” He sighed irritably.

“This is a proper emergency this time – it’s Feli. He’s having one of his panic attacks.”

There was a short pause, during which Gilbert could hear the squeal of car breaks and the honk of car horns as Ludwig screeched to a halt and began driving home.

“I’ll be right there.”

* * *

Roderich woke up on the sofa. He stumbled around his apartment aimlessly for a few minutes after realising he was still wearing his formal clothes from the previous evening before finding his way to his bedroom and getting changed.

As he was absent-mindedly buttering a croissant, it hit him as to why he hadn’t been in his bed – he’d flopped on the settee the second Vash had left, and proceeded to cry himself to sleep.

 _“How could I be so stupid?”_ He asked himself, _“I had a perfect partner, a perfect life ahead of me, then I had to go and fall hook line and sinker for a complete stranger!”_.

Roderich finished his breakfast and merely threw his plate in the sink to clean later, before resigning himself to a day of venting his frustrations through playing the piano. As he sat down on the edge of the plush cushioned bench to begin playing, he noticed a folded slip of card propped up on the ledge in front of his music. It read simply:

“ _Dear Roderich,_

_It’s over. I think we both know why._

_Vash Zwingli”_

“No…” Roderich gasped aloud, stunned by the abruptness of the message. “ _There’s no turning back now”_ he thought to himself, “ _You’ve lost your chance at a parents-approved partner, so there’s nothing stopping you from getting together with Gilbert.”_ He smiled faintly at this prospect, before his dream began its dizzying descent to crashing and burning. “ _But what if he doesn’t like me back…?”_

* * *

Ludwig flung the door open, not caring as it dented the wall behind it.

“Feli!” he cried out desperately, tearing down the hallway. “Gil? Feli? Where are you?”

“In here Lud!” called Gilbert from the living room, still sounding panicked.

“Feli! Calm down! I’m here now!” Ludwig murmured soothingly in Feliciano’s ear, stroking his hair softly.

Feli’s whole body continued to shake violently as sobs wracked his slight frame.

“Don’t worry Feliciano. I’ll never leave you. Gil, go call my secretary and say I’m ill.”

“Sure. Glad to see you’re finally having your rebellious teenager phrase, West!”

“Gilbert, nein.”

“’Kay, I’ll go call Bel.”

Ludwig pulled Feliciano closer and Gilbert, sensing that he was intruding, went to call Ludwig’s secretary, Bel.

* * *

Hurriedly shaking some cat food into bowls for the hungry animals, Roderich reached for his coat, before running out of the door, heading to Gilbert’s house. He didn’t know if he would be welcome, or if he would even be home, but he felt he had to try.

“ _If only I’d remembered to ask for his number._ ”

But then, Gilbert _had_ reminded him of the fact that Roderich had his address, so he surely _wanted_ to be contacted, right?

Roderich blotted all doubts from his mind as he punched the address into his car’s sat nav. He pulled out from his underground car park, and waved at Tino and Berwald’s adopted son Peter who was riding his bike along the road as he passed.

He arrived at the house to find the door wide open, and the wails of someone clearly distressed coming from within. Roderich stepped out of his car, and walked around the BMW parked haphazardly in the driveway, with its door still flung open too. As he raised his hand to ring the beel, he saw Gilbert appearing from a side room, returning  a landline handset to its holder.

“G-good morning, G-gilbert!” stuttered Roderich, surprized to see him. “What’s going on?”

Gilbert’s face seemed to light up, and the pained wrinkles that had previously marred his expression melted. “Morning Specs. It’s a long story. I’ll speak in a second: I need to go speak to my brother. Come in a minute, you’ll have to go in the kitchen I’m afraid – the sitting room’s kinda occupied…”

Roderich followed Gilbert along a hallway and into a pristine kitchen, where he perched on the offered stool at the counter. Gilbert dashed back down the hall into what was presumably the lounge. The crying continued, yet seemed to be lessening as the seconds passed.

Gilbert appeared a moment later, running his hands through his already tousled hair.

“So what was it you wanted?” he asked, hopping up onto another stool opposite Roderich. “Did you come to ask the awesome me out on a date?”

Roderich began sputtering, partly out of shock, and partly out of embarrassment at being found out.

“Has my awesome presence rendered you speechless?” Gilbert teased, before adding “It was a joke… Jeez Specs… Don’t take things so literally.”

Roderich felt his spirits fall a little as Gilbert brushed off his previous comment with barely a second thought.

"Oh... I w-was going to ask if y-you wanted to come round for dinner t-tonight?"

"Awesome!!! I'd love to come!"

"You would?!"

"I would consider it an honour your highness!" Gilbert leapt of his stool and took a mock bow.

"Why thank you kind sir!"

"Prithee tell how one dost gettest to thou abode?"

"Stop with the posh stuff now - I don't speak like that!"

"Alas! Kind sir! Do you wish to deny your humble servant his pleasure?"

Gilbert snickered at his own barely concealed innuendo.

Roderich looked blankly at him for a moment, before comprehending.

"Gilbert! That is most inappropriate!"

"You can't accuse me of having a dirty mind without having one too – how else would you understand me?"

"Shut up. Do you want my address or not?"

“Ja, write it on here.” Gilbert chucked a magnetic notepad from the fridge at him along with a biro from the counter.

_Apartment 3, no. 14 Sonata Avenue_

Gilbert recognised the first line of the address as a prestigious tree-lined avenue, and snickered at how fitting the name was – Roderich _would_ choose to live somewhere with a music-themed name!

“What time do you want me to come over?”

“6:30? Is that alright with you?”

“That would be _awesome_.”

 

* * *

 

“WHAT IS THIS?!” wailed a distraught Annaliese.

“LUUUUKAAAAS?! WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!”

Lukas cursed under his breath – what had he done now?

“Yes, darling?”

“WHY did I find a ‘Тараканы!’ t-shirt under our bed?”

“Ah. I went to a concert with a friend from orchestra?”

Lukas hoped she would overlook the questioning hesitation in his voice and believe the thinly concealed lie.

“In which case, WHY DID YOU NOT INVITE ME!”

“He only had two tickets.”

This was partly true – Mathias _was_ a friend from orchestra, and had only bought two tickets. However, Lukas was not going to mention this to his wife, as he didn’t want this argument to escalate any further. Anna was not the noisiest of people, so when she was angry, Lukas took her seriously: he didn’t want her asking why he had ‘stayed late’ at work for the last few months. He did genuinely love her, but had grown to see her as more of more as a sister, rather than a romantic partner.

“Oh.” She sighed, dejectedly.

“Look. I’ll take you to a concert of theirs next time one’s on in this country – okay?”

“Alright.” She stood up to peck Lukas on the cheek, before continuing to tidy up the bedroom, whilst Lukas returned to making dinner (as Anna had long ago given up on attempting to produce edible meals that were not poisonous: it was obvious who Roderich had inherited his cooking skills from).

“ _I’m going to miss you when you find out and leave me, Sweetheart_.”

 

_~Fin_


	10. Chapter 10

Roderich smoothed out the non-existent creases in his duck-egg-blue dress shirt for the hundredth time that evening, before glancing at his watch, as he had been doing incessantly since arriving back from Gilbert’s.

The fresh red salmon fillets were cooked to perfection and being kept warm in the oven, as well as the new potatoes which Roderich had just melted butter over. Luscious green mange tout was also gently steaming on the stove. There was even an expensive bottle of vintage wine in a bucket of ice by the table.

At precisely 6:30 there was an obnoxiously loud and flamboyant knock on the door. Roderich took a deep breath, steeling himself, before walking to the door and opening it cautiously.

“Hi Specs!” Gilbert almost shouted, giving Roderich a shock.

“Please, calm down Gilbert. And there’s no need to practise percussion on my door – there _is_ a bell, and I _do_ have fussy neighbours!”

“Aww, they won’t complain – my awesome presence will be enough to scare them off!”

“Could you at least _try_ not to be so egotistical?!”

Gilbert snickered childishly at the last word.

“What?” asked Roderich, confused.

“Just something my old English middle school teacher said to us to help us pronounce ‘egotistical’.”

Roderich cocked his head to one side as he led Gilbert to the couch and perched daintily on the edge of it. Gilbert flopped down onto it, clearly making himself at home, before continuing.

“She told us it sounded like ‘ego _testical_ ’ we were all like, twelve, so found it funny.”

“Your sense of humour doesn’t seem to have changed much then.” Roderich remarked dryly.

“Hey! Not fair!”

“I never said I was. Now, do you want a drink first, or dinner?”

“Oooo! Food!”

“I guessed as much.”

Roderich stood up from the settee with ease, then sighed at Gilbert, who was completely stuck on the cushions.

“You look like a bug stuck on its back.” he commented, offering a hand to help Gilbert to his feet.

“Thanks. I think you need to call environmental health – your Venus fly trap’s grown so big it could almost pass as a sofa.”

Roderich merely rolled his eyes and showed Gilbert the way to his kitchen diner.

“Talk about confusing layouts!” commented Gilbert, as they walked – the apartment was bigger than it looked.

“I said it was easy to get lost here.” smirked Roderich victoriously.         

Gilbert sat down on the chair he was offered in the kitchen, whilst Roderich pulled the plates with the salmon and potatoes out of the oven, before laying the mange tout alongside them on the plate and bringing over a lemon and a knife.

Gilbert looked at the plate with a hungry gleam in his eyes as Roderich cut the lemon in two and gave half to Gilbert to squeeze onto his fish. He took it gratefully, and grinned as Roderich produced the bottle of wine from beneath the table.

“Prosecco?” Gilbert inquired, impressed by the choice.

“Uh huh…” Roderich was battling with the bottle cork, which was stubbornly refusing to come out. Finally, with a loud pop, it burst free before ricocheting off of Gilbert’s wine glass which promptly disintegrated into a pile of fine crystal shards with a delicate tinkle.

“Sheisse!” he cursed, as Gilbert stared in shock at the glittering pile before him.

“Whoopsie daisy Specs!” he laughed, before noticing that Roderich was close to tears, “You find a new glass, I’ll clear that up.”

Roderich nodded mutely, before walking back to the cupboards for a new wineglass.

After pouring the wine into both glasses, Roderich sat down at the table, and the pair sat in silence for a while, Roderich staring into space.

“Cheer up, Specs, it’s alright!”

“It was my grandmother’s last gift to me; that wine glass set. And now it’s not complete.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize.” Gilbert chewed his lip, unhappy with the silence. “Come on, let’s eat – your undoubtable lovely food will get cold!”

As if encouraged to move by the possibility of his food going to waste, Roderich picked up his knife and fork to begin eating.

* * *

Less than five minutes later, Roderich was convinced that Gilbert was an animal. His table manners were atrocious, and Roderich wasn’t sure if it was humanly possible to eat that fast.

“Do you not eat at home or something?” Roderich asked incredulously.

“West only feeds me when he’s hungry too, and there are child locks on the cupboards to stop Feli getting in and eating everything.”

“Can you cook at all?”

Gilbert looked a bit sheepish for a moment, “Does salad count?”

Roderich looked at him disapprovingly. “Not even toast?”

“I kinda set the toaster on fire last time I tried… I can make coffee though! But only cos Feli showed me...”

“I see I’m going to have to teach you. And it won’t be an easy task by the sound of it.”

“Don’t worry Specs! I’ll be an awesome student!”

“We’ll see.” smiled Roderich.

Gilbert took a long gulp of his wine.

“Mmmmm! A nice vintage – you have taste I see Roddy!”

“So do you; for a man who doesn’t cook.”

“Yeah, well I live with an Italian.”

“Fair point.”

“How did you keep it nice and cold though – I didn’t see you go to the fridge!”

In reply, Roderich merely held up the bucket of ice from by his feet.

“Hehehe! A wine cooler! When me, Toni and Francis were on a trip in sixth form, we thought that the bidet in the hotel bathroom was a wine cooler, before our teacher came in and asked what the hell we were playing at!”

“Don’t you mean Toni, Francis and I? And how unhygienic!”

“Meh, we lived. Our teacher was more angry about the fact we _had_ wine in the first place!”

Roderich laughed, before standing up. “Shall we go and sit back on the couch?”

“Okay, as long as if it eats me, you burn it and return the ashes to West, preferably in a beer bottle.”

“Fine. Now, there’s something I wanted to say to you…”

* * *

Anna sighed, and made herself another cup of coffee. Lukas had been late home again for the fourth day in a row, and she was beginning to get suspicious. She picked up her iPad again, and continued scrolling down the list she’d found on how to tell if your partner was cheating on you. So far, Lukas ticked all the boxes:

1)      Sudden changes in appearance.

Well, that certainly true – the t-shirt for one, and the fact that in the mornings he sometimes looked like he had eyeliner stains.

2)      Becoming distant towards you.

Again, true – he always seemed as if his mind was elsewhere – or with someone else. Anna had caught him daydreaming very often recently, are often fingering a new cross hairgrip, which he claimed was for his orchestral work to stop his hair falling in his eyes. That too tied in with the next point on the list:

3)      3) at too tied in with the nextpoint on the list:

3)       claimed was for his orchesteral work to stop his hair falling in his eyes.helBecomes overly defensive.

That was most definitely true, and so were the next few:

4)      Secret, Unusual and Guilty behaviour.

5)      You never see him.

6)      He’s frequently unreachable.

Anna put her head in her hands, and moaned to herself – Lukas fitted all of the points perfectly – he was always staying late at work, and never had his phone switched on, not to mention how he was always finding excuses for everything. However, it was the last point which truly saddened her:

7)      There’s always someone else’s name on his lips.

Mathias. The man from orchestra who Lukas seemed to idolise yet despise, and who had almost certainly captured her husband’s heart.

“ _How could you, Lukas_.” she whispered to herself, as the tears began to flow.

 

_~Fin_


	11. Chapter 11

“Now, there’s something I wanted to say to you…” Roderich felt the fresh pain rise up in his chest, before swallowing hard and continuing. “Vash broke up with me.”

Gilbert’s face flashed through a range of emotions, from shock to triumphant delight that he may still have a chance with Roderich, before settling on the more appropriate face of saddened disbelief.

“Roderich… I’m so sorry, I didn’t realise!”

“It doesn’t matter, I’m over him already, I just wanted to say, I suppose.” Roderich didn’t even try to conceal his thinly veiled hint to Gilbert that he was available.

“You sure you’re over it, ‘cos I’m sure Feli or his brother have mafia links, they _are_ Italian after all!”

“Gilbert, no!” Roderich laughed, as Gilbert’s expression was a little to sincere for his liking. “I’m fine.”

“Well…”

“Just leave it.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Now we sound like that couple in that film recently – y’know, the cancer one.”

“The Fault in our Stars?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“I wouldn’t have thought _you_ of all people would have seen that Gilbert, and as far as I know there is no girl hiding behind the scenes to drag you to go and see it.”

Gilbert looked down at his lap, embarrassed. Roderich looked at him disapprovingly.

“Do you have any idea how strange you must have looked, going in to see that on your own?”

“I was with Toni and Lovino! I wasn’t all on my own! But Toni kept talking, and wouldn’t stop bawling his head off from the first few minutes onwards, after Lovino told him the ending.”

“Great friends you have.” Roderich’s sarcastic comment caused Gilbert to snicker under his breath.

 “They’re… interesting. But fun to be around.”

Roderich arched one eyebrow sceptically.

Gilbert huffed at Roderich, seeing he was onto a losing battle.

“Anyway, did you fancy going to the cinema tomorrow? Y’know, as a thank you for tonight.”

 “To see what exactly?”

“Ah.” Gilbert looked thoughtful for a second, trying to remember if there had been any good films advertised recently.

There hadn’t, he decided. The last film review he had seen was for some child’s film which looked like a modern, awful, remake of ET, in which the reviewer said that the watcher would form an emotional attachment… to Angry Birds on their smartphone.

“Okay, scrap that idea!” Gilbert said breezily, with a dismissive wave of his hand. “We could go to the park?”

“Alright.”

“Look, I have to go.” Gilbert said, suddenly remembering the time. “West’ll think I’ve been out getting drunk otherwise!”

“Okay, I’ll meet you in the park tomorrow on the bench by the fountain – what time do you want to get there?”

“Ten? Or do you sleep in?”

“Ten o’ clock will be fine.”

“Sleep tight Specs!”

“Gute nachte, Gilbert.”

* * *

The next morning, Roderich dressed hurriedly before grabbing his keys and heading to the park. He knew there was no chance of getting lost on the way there, as he lived so close to the park that he could see his apartment. He didn’t even run the risk of turning left instead of right (as he had once done before).

Locating the right exit gate afterwards would not be so easy, as the park was a hexagonal shape, with six gates, multiple circular flowerbeds and a fountain in the middle, and all perfectly symmetrical. It was a designer’s wet dream, and a certain Austrian’s worst nightmare. ‘Oh well’ he thought, ‘I can just invite Gilbert back to my apartment for a cup of coffee and let him lead the way!’

When Roderich reached the fountain, he saw Gilbert was already sitting on a bench waiting for him.

“Beat ya Specs!” he hollered across the quiet peacefulness of the early morning park. The children who splashed noisily in the fountain didn’t usually arrive until the afternoon.

“Shh!” Roderich reprimanded. “People come here to enjoy the calm. Not to listen to you shout.”

“Aww, but how could they not want to listen to my awesome voice!”

“Easily. Now settle down.”

“Yes _Mother_!”

“Hmph.”

They sat in silence for a while, until Gilbert suddenly spoke, fed up with the uncomfortable silence.

“So, d’you wanna know what was up with Feli? West said I should tell you in case you were worried; said you seemed the type to stew over something for hours.”

Roderich nodded, thinking to himself that yes, he had been deep in thought for all of the previous day, but for a different matter entirely: Gilbert.

“Well, y’see, when he was younger, he had this little friend, I’ve forgotten his name, who thought he was a girl. It probably didn’t help that he used to wear dresses all of the time, but still. Anyway, this little kid proclaimed his undying love for Feli, just before he went into hospital for an operation. He had cancer, but didn’t want to upset Feli by saying so as he knew he wouldn’t understand, so he told him he was going off to battle, the way a nurse had described it to him at first. Feliciano took him literally, and said that he loved him too, yadda yadda, but the boy died shortly after. Feli didn’t really understand what had happened, but someone said to him that fighting cancer was like a war, and he seemed to realise his friend had been defeated and wouldn’t be coming back. He cried nonstop for days afterwards, and didn’t eat, to the point where he was almost admitted to hospital himself, but one day, he suddenly stopped crying, started eating again, and completely recovered. He was fine for years afterwards, until he met West. Apparently Lud looks just like his old friend, and when they first met on a bus over here, Feli thought he was dreaming. When he eventually worked up the courage to ask Lud his name, he was almost in tears, and West took pity on him and offered to escort him to where he had to go, and they’ve been firm friends ever since. They weren’t going out officially until the other day though.”

“But that doesn’t explain why Feli was crying the other day though.” Roderich said, blinking back his own tears of sympathy, and sadness at the little boy whose name he didn’t know, who had died so young.

“Ah, but when I said they were inseparable, I meant that quite literally. Every time Ludwig goes to work or anything, he has to say goodbye to Feli properly, and state when he’ll be back and call if he’s gonna be late, or Feli start’s thinking Lud’s left him like his old friend did and isn’t coming back and he starts having these full blown panic attacks. Even if he just pops out for milk! They’ve tried counselling and therapy, but nothing works.”

“I’m so sorry, Gilbert. If I’d known how tough a time you were all having at your house, I’d have called back later!”

“Nah, I think you calling kinda jolted Feli back to the real world – he was fine when I checked in on him and West after you’d gone!”

“Alright.”

The pair sat in silence again for a while, only a far more amicable silence this time, with far less tension floating around them.

“Anyway,” Roderich started, not used to being the first one to break a silence, “I’ve been stewing all night with this burning need just to _talk_ to someone about my breakup with Vash, and you’re the only person I can go to, so can I?” Roderich took a deep breath; he never spoke sentences that long – was Gilbert having an influence on him?

“Yeah, sure! Your love guru sits right here!” Gilbert spread his arms along the back of the bench, and leaned back, crossing his legs as he did so.”

Roderich laughed quietly, before continuing, “Well, the thing is, my parents approve of him, which I never thought they would. I mean, they’ve been forcing me out on dates with blond women from posh estate-owning families for so long, I never thought they’d accept anyone else, let alone a man! I thought they were quite old fashioned in that way, but maybe owning an iPad with internet access has brought them up to date a bit! Vash is still blond though, so I guess some things never changed. But the thing is, I never really felt like Vash was the person to spend the rest of my life with.”

Gilbert nodded at Roderich, before asking in confusion, “So, is that why you broke up?”

Roderich sighed deeply. “I wish it was as simple as that. Vash accused me of having an affair. Which I wasn’t.”

“Who did he say it was with? Or was he just suspicious?”

“You.” Roderich hung his head. “He said I was always talking about you, and how I hoped you were alright, and how I was always distracted.”

“Well, it’s understandable why you would want to talk about me all the time – I’m awesome!”

“Hmm. Perhaps it was more of the fact that I’d found a man _unconscious_ and lying in an _alleyway_ and was then told that he had a high chance of _dying_ , eh?”

“Yeah. That too.”

The silence that then fell was awkward once again. It was Gilbert that broke it this time, after gathering all of his courage and taking a deep breath to steady his nerves.

“We… We _could_ have an affair, y’know? _I’d_ like to…”

“No we couldn’t!” laughed Roderich, misunderstanding completely, “I’m not with Vash anymore, so I wouldn’t be cheating on anyone so it wouldn’t be an aff… Gilbert?!”

Gilbert had leapt to his feet, all the blood rushing to his head. He had barely heard past the first word ‘no’.

“No…” he whispered to himself. “No.” he repeated much louder, the crushing rejection pouring down on him like a hundred kilos of solid lead. “NO!” he almost shouted, falling to his knees and putting his head in his hands.

“Gilbert? Are you alri…”

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” Gilbert cried, clearly distraught, “YOU MAY AS WELL HAVE SAID YOU DIDN’T LIKE ME BACK, INSTEAD OF GIVING ME ALL THOSE FALSE IMPRESSIONS!”

“What? I never…”

“DON’T LIE! I THOUGHT YOU LIKED ME BACK, BUT I WAS CLEARLY WRONG.”

“But, I do…”

“I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU OR YOUR LYING ASS AGAIN!”

With that, Gilbert stumbled blindly to his feet before tearing off down one of the many pathways, the tears finally escaping and pouring down his cheeks.

 

_~Fin_

 


End file.
